A Writer, Not A Cop
by Ktime
Summary: "And then she has that horrible realisation, that maybe this is all her fault. Because if she'd just told him how she felt in the first place, then none of this shit would've happened. But she didn't. And it is. So it's her job to fix it. Because she's owes him at least that much." A different take of what could have happened when Castle was following Slaughter.
1. Chapter 1

This is set during 4x21, it's kind of a different take of what could have happened

This is my first castle fic, so be nice :)

Not sure if it's going to just be a one shot, or if i'm going to make it into a story, let me know what you think.  
Oh and it's un-beta'd so sorry about any mistakes.

* * *

"You're a writer, not a cop."

He's heard this phrase so many times it doesn't even sound real anymore. It sounds like a corny catch phrase from an 80's movie, or like a bad pick up line he uses after one too many drinks.  
And out of all the times he'd heard those words he never understood why people kept telling him.

Because, he's fully aware of his occupation.

He knows what he does for a living, so he never understood why people continuously insisted on pointing it out.

Until now.

Because as he sits in the dreadfully stereotypical basements of some unknown assailant , he realises what it means.

Because a cop would know what to do.

A cop wouldn't be sitting in the corner waiting for someone to rescue them.

Because a cop wouldn't be in this fucking situation in the first place.

But he doesn't,

And he is.

Because he's a writer

So all he can do is sit in the corner, and think of how horribly conventional the whole situation is. Think of how much better he would have written this in one of his books. Think about the family he has waiting for him at home, and wonder what possibly possessed him to taking such drastic measures, in order to end up in this situation in the first place.

Of course he doesn't have to think for very long.

Because he knows _exactly_ what made him start following that crazy, reckless detective.

Or rather _who_ made him.

Because he's a writer, not a cop.

Because a cop would never have fallen madly in love with their partner.

A cop would never let their emotional turmoil get them into in such screwed up situation.

But he did, because he fell in love with his partner, his muse, his best friend. And she didn't love him back (or so he thought). And god he hated her for that, and it wasn't just because she didn't love him. No, he could've handled that. It was the fact that she knew how he felt, and she didn't have the common decency to tell him. To at least let him know that she didn't feel the same.

But she didn't, so he acted out. Like a rebellious teenager. He showed up with the blonde bimbo's hanging of his arms, started hanging around with Detective Slaughter. And that's when everything turned to shit.

Because Slaughter went in, and pissed of some massive gang; and naturally it was him who they came after. And he knows exactly why that is.

Because he's a writer, not a cop. It's that simple, he's the easy target, the weak link. And it's times like this he really wishes he'd spent some of the millions of dollars from his books, on self defence lessons; or anything that he could possibly use in this sort of situation.

"Rise and shine Mr Castle" A deep thick accent sung from the doorway, breaking him out of his stupor. "It appears someone has responded to our ransom demands."

He looks up at them in surprise, wincing at the light coming through the door;  
"What?" He asks groggily, unaware that there was a ransom in the first place.

"Admittedly it's not exactly the two-million dollars we were hoping for, but I reckon it's pretty fair trade" He said with an evil grin.

"What?" He asks again, utterly confused. It took a minute for his mind to catch on to what they were saying, but even when he did it still wasn't making much sense. These didn't seem like the kind of people who would give in for anything less then what they desired. So what could they possibly be talking about?

"Well it appears, you..." He pauses as he approaches Castle as though for empathises, bending down next to the crouched writer on the floor "...Seemed to have made quite thee impression on a certain detective. Personally I don't see what the attraction is, but whatever the reason, you're free to go" He finishes as he pulled Castle up and pushes him to the door.

All the questions he has die on his lips as he sees bound figure by the door, her hair splaying over her shoulders, there's a trickle of blood down the side her face, yet she still manages to look breath takingly beautiful.

"I take it you know Detective Beckett?" the question comes out as a cocky taunt as she's pushed inside the room which he currently occupies.  
"Well detective Beckett here has offered to take your place, admittedly I was sceptical at first, but then I thought, surely she's gotta be of more value than a writer." He said as looked between them his thick accent somehow making him more intimidating  
"Because you..." He hissed pointing at Castle "...You are just money, but her . . . Well she can get me so much more. Imagine the people I can trade for her huh? The information she can give me on all the undercover cops throughout my gang. And if she's stupid enough to trade herself over for _you_, well then who I am to say no, huh?"

The whole conversation falls on deaf ears as Castle, just continues to stare at the woman in front of him. Because he just doesn't get it.

She has the guts to walking into an armed gang and hand over life, but she can't even tell him how she feels?

She's willing to trade her life for his, but she doesn't love him? How the fuck does that even work? And it's only then he realises that maybe she actually does; Maybe he may still have a chance;

That maybe if he summoned up the courage to tell her again, to risk it all one more time, that maybe it might all pay off.

That maybe they might get the happily ever after he's been trying to write for the last four years.

Of course it's a little late for realisations now. Though isn't it always?

So as her continues to stare at her with a million different question and statements are running through his mind, only one word comes out of mouth;

"Why?" He asks her desperately

If this was one his books, her answer would've been so simple, four words; "Because I love you". The tragic end to a beautiful love story.

But this story is far from over.

And it's not one of his books,

And that's the problem, just like it always has been.

She looks at him for the first to time, with a sad smile and regretful eyes.

"You're a writer, not a cop."

They're last words he hears before a bag is forced over his head and he's plunged into darkness.

Those damn six words, running his life. It seems like no matter what happens everything always comes back to those six words.

The reason he got into the situation in the first place.

And the same reason he got out.

And he wishes he could change that, but he can't. Because it's the truth, it always has been.

So as he's dumped on a side street somewhere in New York, he vows he'll find her and bring her back.

He's not a cop, he's a writer, and maybe it's finally time he writes them their happy ending.

* * *

So what did you think?  
Should I keep going or just leave it as a one shot?

Please Review :)


	2. Chapter 2

So here's the second chapter, I'm not entirely sure where I'm going with this story, but i'll just go with it.

Big shout out to everyone who reviewed:

**lynddsbeth, bookworm1818, Kells, tellie32atthe6, Adlytam, rpaula978, BellaBellaCullen1, purplangel, blackjack, Doc Lee**

It meant so much.

* * *

"He's a writer, not a cop."

She told him that so many times, and once, just once she wished he'd listen.

For once she wishes he'd of taken a step back to just remember that.

But he didn't, and now she's walking up the precinct heading towards the one person who can give her some form of answers. Towards the person who fucked everything up. Towards the person who clearly didn't get it.

Because he's a writer, not cop.

And for fuck sake people, it's not that difficult to comprehend. It's six simple words, that spell out a simple message. The message that this is their job, not his.

The message that they're trained for this shit, he's not.

It's not difficult.

And yet still the phrase went unheard.

And now she's pissed, because while Slaughter may be reckless, he' not stupid. Because he knew who Castle was, what he was. He knew it was his job to protect him, to keep him out of danger.

And yet he's here, and Castles' not.

And she's livid.

"What the hell were you thinking?" She yells as she slams him into the break room door. The loud bang silencing the precinct, as all eyes turn to them.

"Excuse me?" He asks, his cocky attitude making the urge to punch him even greater.

"What the fuck were you thinking? He's not cop..."

"Hey" He yelled interrupting her, trying to shake out of her grasp "He wanted to follow me, if he's stupid enough to get taken it's not my problem"

And that was enough for her to snap, and her right fist slams violently into his jaw.

"Detective Beckett!" Gates loud voice rings across the precinct, but with all the blood rushing through her head she doesn't hear a thing.

"If anything happens to him..." She leans forward and whispers threateningly in is ear "...I will end you"

And she can't help but think of how corny that sounded.

Think of how Castle could've have said something so much better.

But she's a Cop, not a writer.

So she settles for corny, because as lame as it sounded, the hesitant look on Slaughters face, shows that her words hit their mark.

"Detective Beckett! My office now!" And this time she hears her, and she knows she's crossed the line. But she can't bring herself to care.

She knows exactly what Gates is going to say, as she follows her into her office.

"...You're too close to this..."

What does that even mean? Of course you're fucking close to this, he's your partner.

"...You can't remain objective..."

Objective? Somehow she's pretty sure she's not going to get him back by being objective.

She zones out of the rest of the conversation, but she gets the point.

Because this isn't the first time she's been kicked of a case.

And it won't be the last.

Or maybe it will be, but she'll deal with that later.

So she walks out of the precinct, ignoring Ryan and Esposito's desperate calls after her.

Heading straight to the place, which she always seems to end up in when she's in trouble.

Only this time he's not there to answer his own door.

And that's the problem isn't it?

So when Martha opens the door, she has absolutely no idea what to say. She can tell by the look of utter devastation on the older women's face that she knows what's happened.

Martha steps aside and let's her in.

Into the place where she used to feel so comfortable.

"This is all your fault!" Alexis screams at her as she walks down the stairs "you let him follow you around, made him think he had a chance with you, he's not a cop, he's not one of you..."

"Alexis..." Martha tries to intervene , when she sees that Beckett has no intention of doing so.

"No, she should've stopped this crazy 'partnership' crap, the first time she nearly got him killed!"

Beckett doesn't say anything, because realistically she knows Alexis is right.

She knows she should've cut him off.

She knows she shouldn't have kept him around for her own gain.

She knows she should have just bucked up the courage and told him how she felt.

But she didn't.

And it's only now she realises that maybe that's why he started hanging out with Slaughter.

Maybe he was sick of following around a women who 'wasn't ready' for him.

Maybe he was sick of waiting.

And then she has that horrible realisation, that maybe this is all her fault.

Because if she'd just told him how she felt in the first place, then none of this shit would've happened.

But she didn't.

And it is.

So it's her job to fix it.

Because she's owes him at least that much.

So she turns to Martha "Did they call you?"

Martha looks at her hesitantly, she knows why, because the kidnappers always say 'No cops'. That's a given, that's kidnapping 101.

"Listen to me, I promise you, I'm going to get him back okay, I promise, but I need to know what they want" She's begs, glancing between Martha and Alexis.

"Two-million dollars by this time tomorrow" Martha revealed hesitantly.

Becket nodded and looked up at her "I need the number"

"What are you going to do?" Alexis asked desperately.

"I need the number" She said again.

Martha handed her the phone "Just press redial"

"Thankyou"

She walked into Castle's office, closing the door behind her.

Pausing for a moment to take in the office she's been in so many times before.

The office where he did all his _actual_ work.

Because he's a writer, not a cop.

And she can't help but think it's all a little ironic.

Think about how he would have thanked her for using the word correctly.

Because she's in his office, where he should be, and he's where she should be.

Because she signed up for this.

Because she's a cop, not a writer.

And she can't help but think how perfect this would be for one of his books.

_'Making the live saving phone call, from where he should be'_

So she stares down at her phone, praying that this idiotic plan will work, placing the phone to her ear.

"Do you have the money?" A thick accented voice came through the phone line.

"Yes we do, but I also have something else" She bargained into the speaker.

"Excuse me?"

"What if someone offered to swap places with him?"

"And why would I want to do that?"

"He's a writer, not a cop"

"Your point?"

"How much more value would a cop be to you, then a writer?"

And that was all the convincing they needed.

Sure they kept talking, making the general death threats, warning her off, making sure she wasn't trying to play them.

Like she would.

Cleary they didn't get it.

Because this wasn't something she was going to risk screwing up, by trying to double cross them.

Her for him.

It was that simple.

He gets to go home to his family, back to do his job.

And she does hers.

Because as risky as this is, she has no intention of making this a suicide mission. So she writes down the necessary information. Hoping that maybe it will all work out in the end.

She walks out of the office, heading towards the designated location. Ignoring Alexis and Martha's desperate calls after, the begging for answers.

Because right now, that's the one thing she can't do.

"I promise you, you will see him soon, but I need you to do something for me" She says, silencing them both;  
"When he comes home, and I promise you he will, there's a folder in the top draw of his desk, you have to give it to the precinct"

"Why don't you just give it to them now?" Alexis questioned.

"I can't okay, listen if you want your dad back, you have to do this okay, please? Trust me?" She knows she doesn't have the right to asks this of her; but she's sure if Alexis is as much her fathers daughter as she thinks, then she can count on the overly mature teen standing in front of her.

Alexis nodded mutely, as Beckett headed to the door, leaving without another word.

She couldn't let anyone from the precinct follow her, not until Castle was out of the way.

They could screw everything up.

And she wasn't going to risk that.

So she approached the park, placing her gun and badge on the bench, getting down her knees.

She's actually quite surprised she remembered all the instructions they gave her.

From there it was simple,

Bag of over her head, pushed in the back of a car, left hook to the right side of her face (cause god forbid she gets kidnapped without violence).

The next thing she knew she was staring face to face with Castle.

And she was so happy to see that he was unharmed.

But he couldn't hide the look of hurt and confusion in his eyes.

But at that moment of time she really couldn't care, because he was here, he was safe, and now he's going home.

As she's forced into the room she he's him utter a simple word;  
"Why?"

And she thinks about all the possible answers.

But it comes down to one simple thing; because this is her job, not his. And maybe if they'd both been a little better at their respective jobs, then maybe this wouldn't have happened.

But they weren't,

So here they are

And she thinks that maybe, just maybe, that now he finally gets it.

Because this is her job, not his.

Because he's the Writer,

And she's the cop.

And now it's _her_ turn, to do _her_ job.

To get him out of this safe and sound.

To protect him.

But it's only now, she realises that the desire to protect him is so much more than an occupation.

But it's a little late for that now, so she vows to hold onto that realisation, just for a little while longer.

Until they're _both_ out of this safe and sound.

So instead she settles for the words she'd told him so many times before, only this time they mean so much more;  
"You're a writer, not a cop"

Because her job has turned into so much more than an occupation,

And maybe, just maybe, she's finally ready to make the adjustment.

* * *

So what did you think?  
If you've got any idea's on where I should take this story please let me know :)

Oh and Please review, it means the world.


	3. Chapter 3

**So sorry for the delay! No excuse, just got writers block.**

**Thank you all so much the reviews!**

**I promise I'll name you all next chapter I just wanted to get this chapter up ASAP.**

**On an upsetting note, I got an anonymous review last time, about how the story was crap and unrealistic . . . . blah blah blah.**  
**Look if you don't like it, don't read it . . . That simple. (I'll just delete it anyways)**  
**If you've constructive criticism I'm more than happy to hear it, but if you're gonna be dick about, then can you please just go waste your time somewhere else :)**

**Anyways most of you guys have been absolutely awesome, so thanks you so much!**

**Oh and not beta'd so sorry about grammar and spelling mistakes.**  
**On that note anyone who's interested in being my beta (it would be greatly appreciated), please just let me know.**

**Anyway rant over, onto the story...**

* * *

He had absolutely no idea where they dropped him off, or for that matter why. It would've been so much easier to just keep them both.

He thought that maybe it was so he could pay the ransom himself.

But surely it had to more than that.

And for not the first time that day he wished he'd listened.

Listen to their taunts.

Their reasons.

Because as he walks through the streets of New York, he can really only remember six words from his brief time as a hostage.

"You're a write, not a cop"

Remember whose lips the words came from.

Remember the multitude of different meanings those words have.

Remember how they seem to relate to every single moment in his life.

As he passes yet another unknown street, he can't help but be haunted by those words yet again. Because as he sees a car, and makes a spur of the moment decision to jumps in front of it, praying that they'll stop, he realises that he has absolutely no power. He can't tell anyone what to do; he can't order the car to take him to the precinct.

Because he's a writer, not a cop.

But for once, for fucking once that works in his favour.

Because the stunned driver behind the wheel of the halted car, just happened to be fan.

And in that moment he's never been more grateful for his career choice; of course the moment passes quickly, as he realises his occupational choice may result in the death of an NYPD detective.

He jumps in the car, demanding the driver take him straight to the precinct, ignoring the questions.

"Just fucking drive!" He demands, as the driver continuously insists on giving him the third degree.

He watches out the window as the car begins to head towards the precinct, and he suddenly realises that that's not where he wants to go. And that very thought makes him sick; because his partner is probably tied up in some basement somewhere and all he wants to do is go home. Hug Alexis and never let go.

And he wonders if that makes him a bad person.

But she's his daughter.

She's his world.

Because no matter how in love with someone or important something is, nothing should ever come before his daughter.

But for some reason it has been for the past seven months.

Because she begged him to stop this whole charade the day Beckett was shot.

She told him the same thing everyone else did; "You're a writer, not a cop".

But for her, just like everyone else, those six words meant different things.

For her it was a plea.

It was a desperate cry for him to stop being so fucking reckless.

And he wonders how he's only realising this now,

Wonders if that makes him a bad father (on top of everything else).

Because now that he thinks about it, she spelt it out for him; "You need to grow up Dad".

Six words, six different words; that spelt out the same desperate plea.

And for a writer he sure is shit at reading between the lines, at understanding the less then subtle message.

The message that maybe she was tired of being the grown up of the family.

That maybe she doesn't want to sit in class, or at work, wondering what god awful situation he's gotten himself into this time.

Maybe she doesn't want to live in constant fear of growing up without a father.

And he wonders how he missed it, how he could've been so damn selfish.

"Phone, I need your phone" he demands suddenly, frightening the young driver

" . . . I . . .wh" he stuttered out, startled by the sudden outburst.

"Give me your phone!" he commands louder, not caring that he sounds like a pretentious jerk. (They say never meet your heroes).

He stumbles over the keys of the phone, silently wishing that everyone in the world would catch up and get an iPhone. He dialled the number he memorised so many years ago, putting the phone shakily to his ear.

"Hello?" A voice timidly answers.

And at that moment, just for a second everything stops, and nothing else matters.

Because that voice is the most precious thing in the world to him, that voice somehow makes him believe that everything could be okay. Because that voice belongs to the most important person in his life; and that's all that really matters.

And suddenly all the anger he had towards Beckett vanishes.

Because he didn't think she had the right to sacrifice herself for him. He thought it was selfish, making him live with the guilt; the burden of knowing her capture was all his fault.

But as he hears his daughters voice, all the anger he had is replaced with an unattainable amount of gratitude.

And right now he's never been more in love with Kate Beckett.

Because she got him back to the most important person in his life.

Because if he had to choose between the love of his life and a life with his daughter, it's a pretty easy decision.

He knows that.

And it's only now he realises that she did too.

Because he's a writer not a cop.

But he's more than that, he's father.

And he's a bloody good one.

Because when it comes down to it, Alexis will always come first; and he loves her to much to let her grow up without a father. Because he's seen what that can do to a person, how much that can tear them apart. And he's not about to let that happen.

And neither was Kate.

And he loves her so much for that.

The guilt inside continues to eat him away, and it will years after they get her back (because they will get her back). But hearing Alexis makes it somehow seem bearable.

"Hey, hey sweetheart . . ." And her cry of relief is all the confirmation he needed. " . . . I'm on my way home"

And that's exactly where he goes.

Because he's a writer, not a cop.

But more than that, he's father.

And yes, he has every intention of going to the precinct and finding her, but there's somewhere he has to go first.

And that doesn't make him a bad person,

It makes him a dad.

Because that's his full time job.

And that's the one job he'd never waver from.

Not again.

* * *

**I know this chapter didn't really progress the story, but I had a bit of writers block, and this just kinda helped me out.**

**I promise I'll try to have more up this week.**

**Please Review . . . . Nicely !**

**:)**


	4. Chapter 4

Again sorry for the delay

Still not Beta's so apologies for spelling and grammar ect.

Thank you so much to all those who reviewed, it means so much:

**sweetycastle****, ****heatwave1013****, ****bookworm1818****, ****purplangel****, ****tellie32atthe6****, ****Huckaby****, ****fanfictioncaskett4****, ****theputz913****, ****haz3335****, ****tellie32atthe6****, ****andreamae24****, ****Adlytam****, ****Doc Lee****, ****Kells, ****LinNicole****, ****mojor**** . **

You guys rock!

Special thanks to **bookworm1818** who left an incredibly lovely and constructive review, it meant allot.

And can't wait for Monday night's episode, it's gonna be soo EPIC!

So this chapter is kinda focusing on Alexis, I know some of you might find it boring, but I needed to establish her feelings and what not, because I think I'm going to use at the end of the story. Plus i really like her character.

* * *

"I'm coming home" She's never heard three greater words in her life.

In the past when she's heard those words it generally resulted in her cleaning her room or kicking her boyfriend out of the house.

But this time those three words resulted in tears of relief.

"You're coming home?" She asks, making sure she heard him right, making sure he wasn't lying. She hears a tiny 'oh, thank god' from the back of the lounge room, as Martha voices her relief.

"Yeah baby girl, I'm coming home right now, I promise" And she can hear the tears of happiness in his voice, but there's something more;

Something hiding behind the evident sound relief.

Behind the exhaustion.

And if she's being completely honest it scares the shit out of her.

Because she's never heard his voice laced with such dread.

Laced with so much regret.

So much guilt.

"Dad, are you sure you're okay?" She begs, because she can't help but think he's lying to her, or at least not telling her everything.

"I'll be home soon darling"

And she's fully aware that he didn't answer the question, but she'll get to that later.

Because now, she can be sure that there will be a later.

And right now, that's enough.

"I love you dad"

"I love you to honey, see you soon"

She turns to Martha with tears in her eyes, "He's coming home" And with those words, she's wrapped in a powerful embrace.

She can't believe he's coming home.

She can't believe he's gotten out of this.

Although that said, she can't believe he got himself into that situation in the first place.

And suddenly she's a little angry.

Because she shouldn't have had to go through that.

Because she begged him to stop being so reckless.

Stop playing detective.

And sure, she knew he was in love with his so called _muse,_ you didn't exactly have to be genius to figure that out. But did he seriously have to follow her around like a lost puppy?

Why couldn't she just be madly in love with him like everyone else seemed to be?

Why couldn't he just ask her out an ordinary person?

But Kate Beckett was anything but ordinary.

And maybe that was why she was so angry at her.

Because her father had never fallen for someone as hard as he did for Kate; not even her mother (his ex-wife).

Her father had never loved someone more than her.

And it's only now she realises that maybe the resentment she holds for the young detective was born out of jealously.

And now that she thinks about it, that's pretty fucking stupid.

Because she's he's daughter.

And he's her dad.

Her thoughts are interrupted by a loud ring from the home phone; she answers it quickly, expecting to hear her father on the end. "Hello?"

"Alexis?" A voice that belonged to none other than Kate Beckett questioned.

"Detective Beckett? What are . . ." She didn't even get a chance to finish her stunned questioning before she is interrupted.

"Is your dad there?"

"No, he just called he's on his way home now, wait aren't you wit . . .?" Her questioning once again being cut short by the frantic voice of her father's obsession.

"Is he okay?" Beckett questioned, her words coming out in desperate rush.

"Yeah he sounded fine, aren't you with him? What's going on?" She asked desperately.

"I keep my promises, now you keep yours yeah?" It came out as more of a desperate plea, and the tone of her voice was frightening.

Because Kate Beckett did not plea. "Kate, are you alright? Kate!"

"...That's enough.." Alexis heard a deep male voice in the background, before being met with the deafening beep of the dial tone.

She stood there in stunned silence, not knowing what to do.

"Alexis dear, Alexis what's going on?" Her grandmother questioned her desperately.

"I don. . .I don't know..."

"Where's Beckett?"

"I don't know"

She doesn't know exactly what's going on, but she's smart enough to start putting the puzzle together.

Because there was some seriously messed up shit going on.

And somehow her dad was caught in the middle of it.

Or rather he was.

Because now he's on his way home (with an extremely guilty conscience)

And by the sounds of it Beckett isn't.

It's not rocket science.

Because Kate promised she'd bring him home.

And she did.

And it's not a coincidence that all this happened when it did.

Because he's been following her for three years now, and Kate never let him get hurt.

And she can't for the life of her figure out why she's just realising this now.

Because if he hadn't started following the headless cop dude around, then this wouldn't have happened in the first place.

Because Beckett would never let anything happen to him.

But he did.

So Kate couldn't help him.

And she knows he had his reasons.

And she knows that his reasons may even have been because of Beckett.

But that doesn't make this her fault.

And god she wishes she'd realised all this earlier.

She knows she couldn't have stopped this from happening.

She knows she couldn't have stopped Beckett from going after him.

And as bad as it sounds, she wouldn't have wanted to.

Because as important as Kate was to her.

He was her dad.

And she's so fucking grateful for what Kate did.

And suddenly all the anger she has directed towards the detective vanishes; and is replaced by a feeling of absolute dread and guilt.

And she can't even begin to wonder how her dad is feeling.

And suddenly the angst in her dads' voice makes so much sense.

And as all the pieces of the puzzle come together, she finally remembers the last words of the phone call.

"I keep my promises, now you keep yours..."

She runs into her dads' office, and grabs the folder that Kate had left behind, opening it quickly.

She was met with what looked like random words and numbers, which made absolutely no sense to her what so ever.

But that's why Kate said take it to the precinct.

So she does.

But there's someone she has to wait for first.

She doesn't have to wait long, and as soon as the doors open she flings her arms around him so tight, never wanting to let go.

And if it wasn't for the promise she vowed to keep, she probably wouldn't.

"Dad we have to go the precinct"

He looks at her like she's crazy "They've got Kate"

She hears Martha gasp in the background, but ignores it "I know dad, she left me this" She said in a rush, holding up the folder "We have to go now"

"I'm a writer, not a cop" He said meekly as though that had something to do with anything.

"That's never stopped you before" She answered back at him, as she attempts to drag him to the car.

"Yeah and don't you sometime wish it did?" He snapped back causing her to let his arm go.

She looked at him carefully, contemplating what she should say next.

"To be honest? Yeah, yeah I do, but right now it doesn't matter because I promised her I'd get this to the precinct," She looked directly into his eyes "Look, I know your angry and guilty and everything else, but right now; no one gives a shit what your occupation is okay? Right now we have to get to the precinct and help bring her home, because _you owe _her that much..."

She looks him in the eye, and the relief of being able to do that is too much, and she crashes into him again, hugging him tightly.

"...and frankly, so do I"

* * *

So I'm not too sure how this turned out. I feel like I lost a few of you at my last chapter, and I know this was kinda boring but I promise it's important.

Please review and let me know what you think, they mean so much, plus they make me update quicker.  
The next chapter is set at the precinct, so it should get a little more exiting.

Everyone enjoy Monday nights finale and...

PLEASE REVIEW!


	5. Chapter 5

Hi everyone if you're still with me, thank you. I'm soooo sorry I haven't updated, I just had no idea where to go with this story. So I had a lot of trouble with this chapter, and to be honest I'm still not entirely happy with it.

I probably will end up re-writing this chapter anyway, but I figured I owed you guys something...

Big thankyou to all of you guys who reviewed:

**bookworm1818, saifos, LittleLizzieZentara, CaskettFanGrl, purplangel, A.R Claire, Vocalcreature, a shadow in the dark, theilluminantcastle, LinNicole, theputz913.**

Special Thanks to:

**theputz913, purplangel, CaskettFanGrl** and of course **Bookworm1818**, for the continuous and detailed reviews :)

You guys all rock!

Oh and once again, Sorry for the punctuation and spelling errors and everything else.

* * *

Javier Esposito is not stupid a person.

He's a detective in the New York police Department.

He's anything but stupid.

But no matter how hard he tries, or which way he looks, he can't for the life of him figure out what's going on between his boss and her 'partner'.

He knows they're important to each other; he'd have to be an idiot to not have figured that out.

He also knows he's never seen Kate Beckett smile like she does when he's around.

And for that very reason he doesn't pursue it.

He doesn't ask questions.

He doesn't interfere.

Because realistically, they have fucking hard job.

A job that he can only assume is twice as hard on her.

And having him around somehow made it easier for her to deal with.

Because he's a writer not a cop. And Javier Esposito never really thought of those words as an insult. Because it allowed the author to supply them with a different point of view. A new way of seeing things. And as much as he hates to admit it, that view point helped them catch their guy on more than one occasion.

So he let him be.

He let him become the person that Kate needed, the person she could turn to, talk to.

And if he's being completely honest, part of him is a little jealous that she didn't come to him.

Because he's been there for her, through thick and thin.

From the late night bar trips after a rough case.

To the all nighters at the precinct trying to form some kind of lead.

He's been there through it all, long before writer boy showed up.

And yet she still never turned to him.

And that hurt a little.

And no, he was never in love with her, not like that.

But it still hurt to know that she couldn't turn to him.

And he can't help but wonder why,

Because he could've helped her,

He would've helped her.

And he sure as hell wouldn't have gotten her into this fucking mess. Because they're sitting in the precinct trying to figure what the fuck is going on. Castle has been kidnapped, and Beckett is MIA. And they could be dead for all he knows.

And at that moment the elevator doors open and Rick Castle, followed closely by his daughter burst into the precinct.

"Castle wha...?" His questioning was cut short as Alexis threw a file onto his desk.

"They've got Kate" It was Alexis whose mouth the words were uttered from, and all Esposito can do is stare at her, because as smart as he is, he just can't seem to fathom the words the young girl just spoke.  
"She told me to give this to you" Alexis said desperately, and Esposito's hands are suddenly grasping at the envelope, though his brain is still not entirely sure what it's doing.

He tore open the envelope, finding the frequency code from the camera, perched on the front of her car.

"Ryan get this video up now!" He demands as his partner desperately scrambles over the keyboard.

He watched desperately as Ryan brings up the camera.

He watched as the assailant unnecessarily slammed his fist into her face. Then he saw them drag her to the copiously stereotypical black sedan; and he realised why she'd left them the code. If they can track the car, then maybe they can find her. And he can't help but smile a little at her genius thinking. Of course that feeling is quickly replaced by anger at the fact that she didn't tell him what she was doing.

And its times like these that he can't help but wish that Kate trusted him like she used.

Because maybe if she'd trusted him enough to tell him what the plan was, then maybe he could've helped her.

But she didn't, so he couldn't.

And as they run the plates through data base, trying to track the car via traffic cams, all he can do is wonder when he stopped being her best friend.

Wonder when he stopped being her protective big brother.

When he stopped being the person she could turn too?

Wonder what he did to make her faith in him diminish?

And it's only now he realises that maybe it wasn't him.

Maybe it wasn't that she lost faith in him,

Maybe she just didn't need him anymore.

Because the more Castle made his presence permanent, the more she slowly started to drift away from him. But there was no way in hell he was going to interfere.

Because for the first time since he'd known her, she looked like she was actually making progress. She looked like she'd finally found someone who could help her. Someone who she could open up to, someone who would finally help her tear down that wall.

And there was no way he was going to take that away from her.

And he could tell by the look in Castle's eyes that he was head over heels for the senior detective. Because he wasn't good at hiding his emotion like she was.

Because he's a writer, not a cop.

So it was blatantly obvious to Javier Esposito that Castle was never going to hurt her. That he would do anything for Kate.

And that's the reason he never confronted Castle about the sudden change in muses.

The reason he's not screaming at him, like the writer expects him to be.

Because he wasn't naive enough to believe that detective Beckett was completely innocent.

So he decides that when she gets back they're going to sit down and have a major discussion about what the fuck's been going on over the last four years.

"It's not your fault" He said towards the writer who looks so guilty, so scared, so utterly lost, that he could just collapse. The writer turns and looks at him incredulously.

How could Esposito say that him.

How could he not blame him like he so easily blamed himself?

"Are you kiddin.." But his objections are quickly cut off.

"Look bro, I'm not gonna pretend to know what's been going with you two, but it's obvious the blame's not completely one sided here, so when we get her back, and we will get her back" He emphasises "You two, need to sort your shit"

"But if I wasn..."

"You're a writer not a cop" Esposito's points out to him "You shouldn't have been there in the first place."

And god Richard Castle hates those words.

Because so many times he's heard those words, and so many times they've meant different things.

But he still never stopped.

"I got it!" Ryan's shout interrupts his thoughts "They stopped at an old hotel on Second Street"

And Esposito was halfway out the precinct before he could even finish.

"Detective Esposito" Gates called, and the younger detective had completely forgotten about his boss.

"Sir we.." He doesn't even get halfway through this sentence before he's interrupted,

Surely 'Iron Gates' wouldn't stop them from rescuing their own

Surely she's not that rule bound.

"SWAT will meet you there" She's says sternly "Bring her home"

Esposito can't hide the shocked look on his face, but offers her a stiff nod as he turns back to the elevator which Ryan is already waiting for.

As they enter the elevator, they turn and see Castle heading towards them with a desperate looking Alexis behind him.

Her eye's begging him not to go

Begging him to just stay behind.

"Wait here," Eposito ordered, keeping him out of the elevator "We'll let you when we have her"

And for once, for fucking once he listened.

Because he's a writer not a cop,

And that basement was not place for a writer.

That, he learned from experience.

And maybe that's what it would take for him to finally listen.

* * *

Okay, I know I didn't really go into detail on how they found where she was, and quite frankly i live in Australia so I know exactly nothing about New York, and streets and everything. But this story isn't really about the investigating side of everything.

So yeah like I said, I really struggled with this chapter, but I just wanted to get it up, so please let me know what you think. And I promise I'll try and update quicker.


	6. Chapter 6

**Sooo...**

**I'm so sorry, every time I went to write this chapter, it just wouldn't happen. I'm still not very happy with this chapter, I might end up re doing it, but I had to get something up.**  
**If you're all still with me, thank you so much for your support.**

**Thanks to all who reviewed my last chapter (all those months ago):  
**

**Blackjack, Reyhane 41319, Alex0115, theputz913, purplangel, tellie32atthe6, Moonbebe, Huckaby, KlingonGal8489, someguyshere.**

**You guys are awesome.**

**So it's still not beta'd, any mistakes are all mine.**

**Again sorry and please enjoy.**

* * *

Kate Beckett is not what you would call a 'trusting' person. (The loss of parent generally does that to a person).

She never thought they'd let him go.

Never in a million years.

Sure they'd reassured her, and guaranteed his safety.

But no one in their right mind would even consider trusting these unknown thugs.

Much less Kate Becket.

And as simple as paying the ransom would've been.

She's seen the statistics.

She's seen how often the ransom payment doesn't result in a happy ending.

And she wasn't willing to take that risk.

Not on his life.

So she came up with another a plan.

A plan, with a backup plan.

Because she knew she was going to be taken.

That _was_ the plan.

But she never thought they'd let him go.

And if she was being completely honest, the fact that they did scared the crap out of her. Because that was _not_ the plan. Her plan was to get taken _to him_.

So she could protect him.

But she couldn't do that if he was gone.

And she wonders how the plan could go exactly the way she wanted it to, and yet fuck everything up.

And it's only now she realises that that her _plan with the backup plan_, was about as well thought out as the sixth season of _Lost_. And she can't for the life of her figure out what the hell she was thinking.

Because she's a cop, not a writer.

Because she knows better than this.

Or rather she should.

Because as the drag him out of the crappy basement, it occurs to her that the only thing she's managed to accomplish is downing the taskforce of an extra set of hands.

So she resorts to the only thing she's got left,

Or what they think she's got.

Because the information that she promised them, about the 'undercover officers' in there gang, was the biggest bluff in the world (and she makes a mental note to thank Castle for the poker matches when she sees him next, _if she sees him_).

So right now they're the only cards she holds.

And she has every intention of paying them out.

Because without that _hand_ her current situation is the very definition of _up shit creek without a paddle._

So she plays her cards, and by god she played them hard.

"I'm not giving you shit until I know he's safe" The strength that the words come out with, surprise even her. But then again, this is Richard Castle's life. And if she's learnt anything over the last four years it's the fact the she'll do anything for him.

Except apparently the one thing he wanted.

Those three simple words.

But she'll get back to that.

"Don't you trust us detective?" He asked, he voice filled with smugness, as he ran his finger along her jaw line.

Shaking her head away violently, she met his eyes with a look of utter defiance. "I swear on everything that ever mattered, if you hurt him, I'll kill you"

The sadistic smile on her face, forces him to step back and for the first time since she's been forced into that hell hole she feels like she has the upper hand.

And she can't help but think of what her therapist is going to say when she tells him she scared off her armed captives with nothing but the cold look in her eyes.

Although now is hardly the time to worry.

Because as far as things to discuss with therapist go, she's fairly certain that 5 second moment won't even make the top ten.

Her thoughts are interrupted as she hears a hushed conversation going on by the door.

He walks away from her before returning with a cell phone. "Call who you need... I promise we let him go" He said, chucking her the phone "oh and don't try any sneaky shit" He added making brief eye contact with her as though if he stares at her to long, her ice cold gaze might turn him to stone.

The phone landed on her lap, and she looked down at it incredulously. "And how exactly am I meant to do that?" She asked sarcastically, gesturing to hands that were still tightly bound behind her back.

Her sarcastic attitude managed to gain her, a violent back hand to the face (the first of many).

And although they aren't the smartest of criminals, they weren't stupid enough to untie her hands, much to her dismay.

So he dials the desired number and holds the phone to her ear.

The very tone in which Alexis answered the phone, made it evident that she was with or at least had spoken to her dad.

But still she had to ask.

And the confirmation she got made everything worth it.

Because Castle was safe.

And it's only when her capture violently pulls her head, that she realises she's still in some pretty deep shit.

And as she remembers the backup plan she had in place on the off chance that they actually let him go, she thinks for the first time there might be a light at the end of tunnel.

So she reminds Alexis, ignoring the teenagers concerned questions.

And when the phone is ripped violently from her ear, she thinks it's pretty safe to say she's done all she can,

It's up to everyone else now,

Her life in their hands.

And she's honestly surprised at how okay with that she actually is.

Because she honestly can't remember having that much faith in anyone.

And it's only now, sitting in a dingy old basement that she realises what a positive impact the writer has had on her life.

In the four small years that she's known him, he managed to break down her walls.

To restore her faith in society.

And by god they had some fun times doing it, and at this thought she can't help but smile.

Of course the smile doesn't last long, her thoughts interrupted by her current situation.

"So we kept our end of the bargain, now tell us what we want to know"

"Yeah... That's not gonna happen"

The response she got was not what she was expecting;

Her capture just smirked.

"Yeah I figured that much" he answered smugly "You cops never turn on each other"

It's only then that Kate Beckett realises what's going on.

Because if they've called her bluff, then she has no cards left.

And now she's left with one question, why would they agree to this trade.

And as if he reads her mind, "You see detective, you have quite the reputation out there, and let's just say, it's not based on your detective work... You're even more attractive in person"

And as those words come out of his mouth, she realises that these guys weren't stupid,

They were sick.

"All we originally wanted to do was to get you bastards of our backs... well that and money, but then you come in, all high and mighty, and what better way to get back at the police force..." He announces smirking as he grabs her face, "...Then breaking their lead detective"

She stares defiantly into his eyes, trying to hide her fear.

"And I am going to break you..."

His words trail off, and she doesn't need him to finish for her heart to skip a beat.

Because Kate Beckett is terrified.

And all she wants to do is close her eyes and pretend this isn't happening.

To create a new world, and disappear into it.

But she can't,

Because she's a cop, not writer.

"We never had any interest in writer boy; you should've left him here" He said with a smirk, but much to his dismay those words don't have the desired effect he was looking for.

Because those words manage to restore her with tiniest bit of hope.

Because there was no way in hell she was going to leave him there.

So she holds onto the one thing that she has.

Because Richards Castle was safe.

And that was the plan.

So she holds onto that.

Because right now, that's all she's got.

* * *

**Please let me know what you think, and I promise, i will finish this story!**  
**On the bright side I know what is happening for the next chapter so it definitely won't take as long.**

**So please review, and thank you.**


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